Strip Tease
by ChaoticReverie
Summary: The Suicide Squad have a few too many drinks at the Iceberg Lounge. Shark/Frost Assault on Arkham 'verse.


**Members of the Suicide Squad** **have a '** _ **few'**_ **drinks at the Iceberg Lounge the night before their mission...**

 **I ship Frost/Shark... and I have no regrets. Warnings for language, sexuality, and implications. This story is ridiculous, so please don't take it too seriously. And FYI, I am going to be using a lot of names instead of titles here, because constantly referring to someone as Black Spider or Captain Boomerang seems goofy as all hell (though I will probably toss around a few variations and nicknames between them). So, if anyone needs a refresher:**

 **Killer Frost = Louise Lincoln**

 **King Shark = Nanaue**

 **Captain Boomerang = George Harkness**

 **Harley Quinn... I'm just gunna call her Harley, cuz Harleen doesn't suit her at all.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Harkness watched with a scowl as his self proclaimed 'leader' slipped out of sight, eyes slanting once more to the dart board before he pulled himself from the floor with a snort.

"Whatever. More beer for us!"

The crowd he'd been chatting with hoisted their mugs to the declaration, whooping in agreement. Ordering another pint, George finished off his last beer and settled back in his stool. He grinned lewdly at the young bartender as she served him. "Thanks, love."

The sound of the doors opening had him glancing back over his shoulder (a habit he'd attained in prison), nearly choking on his drink at the sight of the hulking monstrosity coming his way.

Every occupant in the room stopped to watch as Nanaue approached the bar, the woman behind the counter pushing back her discomfort as she asked politely, "What can I get you?"

"Lager. Whatever you have on tap," he responded, choosing to stand. Those stools didn't look like they could support his weight.

Harkness shifted uncertainly, shooting the walking mountain of muscle a nervous smile when he caught him staring. Clearing his throat, George attempted to dispel the tension. "Evening, mate. Gotta say I'm a little surprised to see you down here."

Nanaue hummed in question, hairless brow quirking.

Raising a hand in a placating gesture, the Australian elucidated, "No offense, ay. I just meant that I hadn't pictured you as a drinker."

"Because I eat people?"

The deep utterance made the bar go quiet, all eyes instantly on the conversing pair.

The shark-man hybrid paid them little mind, having grown used to people's fearful stares. One large hand wound around his mug when the bartender slid it to him, dark eyes slipping languidly down to its contents.

"You'd be surprised how well the two go together," he told Harkness, taking a long drink. Setting the half empty glass down, he went on, "You should try it some time.

George swallowed the thickening lump in his throat, replying, "I'll pass."

Nanaue shrugged. "Suit yourself."

The doors opened again, accompanied by a pair of female voices, one childishly jubilant, the other... annoyed.

"C'mon, Frosty, it'll be fun! Just a couple of drinks?!"

"If you promise to quit calling me that I'll have a drink with you. _One_ drink."

"Yay!"

This time when Harkness glanced back over his shoulder, a far more welcoming sight awaited him. "Harley, Frost! C'mere and have one with us! First round's on me!"

The boisterous blonde hauled her reluctant companion to the bar, flopping into an open stool beside Harkness as she ordered for them both. Louise sighed, sitting herself down next to… oh, how could she have missed him? Grinning, she reached out with an elbow and jostled her larger teammate. "Fancy meeting you here."

Nanaue opened his mouth in what he hoped looked like a smile, but with a metal jaw… he doubted it. He observed the blue-haired woman as she accepted her beer from the bartender, tapping the neck of her bottle against the rim of his mug with a soft 'clink'.

"Cheers."

He could only nod as he watched her tilt her head back to take a sip, graceful neck arching beautifully. He shifted on his feet.

"So, you lookin' to party?" the Australian probed suggestively, leaning slightly in their direction.

Poking her tongue out, Harley told him plainly, "Not gunna happen, Boomer. Frosty and I are havin' a girls night!"

Scoffing, Louise took another swig. "Yeah, we're quite the party animals."

The young blonde pouted at her. "Don't be like that! You just need another drink."

"The deal was one, and the _only_ reason I agreed to it was to get _you_ to stop calling me Frosty… though that particular stipulation seems to have bypassed your attention completely," Louise reminded her, finishing her beer in a hurry.

Harley gripped her bicep, whining, "C'mon, Blue! Don't be a prude!"

"Blue?" she repeated dubiously. As if the one nickname wasn't bad enough. The pigtailed woman gave her arm a little shake, and for a split second she was severely tempted to freeze that damn hand right off.

"We could get our heads blown off tomorrow, remember? Get drunk with me! It could be the last time you get to!"

Pale brow quirking, the ice-infused villainess thought on the prospect, supposing her temporary teammate was correct. If this was indeed her last night alive, she may as well spend it slammed. "Ah, what the hell."

"That's my girl!" Harley cheered, ordering another round.

Minutes slid into hours, awkwardness melting into amiable chatter. By the time midnight rolled around the two women had over a dozen beers downed between the two of them, and it was at that time that the blonde turned to Louise with a devious smile.

"What's that look about?" she wondered aloud.

"Ya wanna make things interesting?" she purred with a little shimmy of her shoulders.

"What kind of interesting?"

Pulling a deck of card from her pocket, Harley suggested, "How about a game of poker?"

Louise lifted a pale brow, somewhat surprised, and oddly disappointed. She'd expected something a little more… _crazy_ from the other woman.

" _Strip_ poker?"

Aha! Now that was more like it. "Are we even allowed to do that in here?"

"Pfft. It's not like we ever let the rules stop us before. But don't worry, this is Penguin's joint. Pretty much anything goes here, as long as it's not bringin' the cops in."

Brain thoroughly addled and inhibitions gone entirely, Frost responded with a nod and a smirk. "You sure about this; I'm pretty good?"

"Then this oughtta be fun," Harley giggled. "Anybody else wanna play?"

"I'm good with watching," Harkness responded with a laugh.

A couple of the men they'd been chatting with throughout the night eagerly asked to join, much to Quinn's delight, and they moved to a table just off the bar. George and the others turned to observe them, and Nanaue moved to a table by himself, not particularly caring to stay put now that Frost had moved.

"These cards aren't going to blow up in my hand, are they?" Louise asked, only half joking.

"Nah, I keep that deck in another pocket," the blonde assured her. She dealt the hands, stating as she did so, "Loser takes off one piece of clothing, _and_ has to take a shot."

"Fine by me," Frost agreed, and then gestured to her bodysuit. "But this counts as two pieces."

Harley gave a consenting nod. "And another thing: gloves, socks, and shoes come off in pairs."

"We need some tequila shots over here!" one of the men playing with them called out to the bartender, waving a bill at her.

By the tenth game neither woman had touched a shot. Both males had been stripped down to nothing, and had drunkenly and shamefully vacated the table after a healthy dose of teasing from the girls.

Harley dealt the next hand, smiling at her. "You _are_ good. I'm impressed, Blue."

"I could say the same for you, Miss Quinn," she replied, taking another sip of her drink.

The blonde's eyes shifted to the side, her smile widening as she observed, "Shark boy hasn't taken his eyes offa you tonight, huh?"

Louise looked to where Nanaue was sitting one table away, finding that he was indeed watching her. "He's just overprotective."

"Yeah, it could be that. Or it could be that he wants to plough your brains out."

Frost nearly choked on her beer at the crude utterance, her gaze snapping back to her teammate turned drinking buddy. "Jesus!"

"Why don't you give him a show?" she giggled.

"You need to just stop talking now."

"Oh, why not? The guy's smitten! Give him something to think about later when he's jer-"

"Shut it," the blue-haired woman clipped, though she noted curiously that the idea didn't seem as repellent as she'd expected it would. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but all of that muscle looked pretty fucking appealing from where she was sitting.

"Let's just play, shall we?" she suggested, trying to shake the thought.

The next three hands came out in her favour, Harley's arms, hands and feet all bare. Louise was so confident in her victory that the next hand took her completely by surprise. She glanced at the cards carefully, first at her own, and then at her opponent's.

"That's a full house," the blonde clarified with a cocky grin.

"I know what it is!" Frost hissed, reaching out and snagging her shot. She downed it with a grimace, and the bartender was there a second later to replace it with another.

Reaching down, she tugged one fur trimmed boot from her foot, catching movement in the corner of her eye as she did so. Nanaue had leaned forward ever so slightly as she began to undress, and she subconsciously moved a little more sluggishly with the second boot.

The result of the next game was the same, and by this point the tequila was buzzing through her veins. Finishing shot number two, Louise took hold of a glove between her teeth, sliding it slowly from her arm. He was watching her, she could tell, and she made sure to repeat the process with the same aching slowness.

When she lost for a third time she wasn't all that upset, a strange, giddy anticipation spiralling through her. She made certain to plan her movements, wanting every subtle motion to entice her silent voyeur. Standing, she bent to grab hold of the top of her stocking, slipping the pale, sheer fabric down the length of her leg. She glanced his way as she removed the second, meeting his intense gaze with a saucy look of her own.

Nanaue gripped the arm of his chair a little more tightly, black claws piercing the flimsy fabric. Usually the sight of so much bare flesh made him ravenous, but the hunger that stirred within him now was of an entirely different sort. All that milky white skin, he could practically feel it in his palms…

Harley sent her a sly look as she sat back down, but remained silent all the same. Cards were inspected, discarded, and drawn, and after a few minutes of careful strategy, the pair revealed their hands again.

"Well, I'll be damned," the blonde hummed as she discovered her loss. Her disappointment was quickly discarded, however, and she stood with a shrug to pull off her top.

"Now we're gettin' somewhere," Harkness whooped in approval, along with a handful of other men.

Frost sent a curious glance in Nanaue's direction again, somewhat surprised to see his gaze hadn't wandered to the newly exposed flesh. His eyes remained firmly on her.

The next loss was hers. Doing the required shot, the blue-haired woman shifted forward in her seat, back arching as she reached behind herself to pull down the zipper at her neck. She let the fabric slip from her fingers, the heavy material slithering from her torso to pool at her hips. She heard what sounded like a deep growl come from the table next to theirs, grinning triumphantly as she settled back into her chair.

Harley shuffled the cards with a practiced flourish, commenting offhandedly, "I don't know how you feel about panties, but I personally have no use for 'em."

"Same," Louise said with a shrug.

"So I guess this will be our last game."

"Guess so. Hope you're ready to lose those pants."

The blonde smiled as she dealt. "I'm always ready to lose my pants."

Frost couldn't help but laugh, the queer response both absurd and perfectly suited to the ridiculous young woman who'd uttered it.

"You got a nice rack, by the way, Blue," Quinn told her as she set two cards aside, drawing two more from the deck.

"Thanks," Louise replied, mimicking the move.

"If ya ever wanna have a threesome – y'know, if we don't all die tomorrow – you should gimmi a call."

"I'll be sure to do that."

Harley set her hand face up on the table, stating confidently, "Four tens."

Louise did the same, responding with a vicious smirk, "Four queens."

Blinking in surprise, the blonde heaved a sigh of defeat, standing on wobbly legs to divest herself of her final article of clothing. The action was accompanied by a chorus of catcalls, but she paid them little mind, stripping out of her pants and standing bare before the table. She took both shots, and extended a hand to the victor.

"Good game."

Louise reached out and clasped hands with her. "Good game."

She did up her bodysuit as she watched Harley kneel to collect her clothing, nearly tipping over in the process.

Managing to gather everything and right herself again, Quinn declared, "I'm gunna go find a cowboy to ride."

"Don't you think you should put your clothes back on before you do that?"

"Nah, it'll be fine. I'd just have to take 'em off again, anyway."

Frost watched her inebriated teammate stumble to the door, struggling with it momentarily before slipping into the hallway. Normally she would have protested, but Harley could certainly handle herself if anyone gave her trouble.

Plucking her gloves from the table, and her boots and stockings from the floor, she stood and looked at her admirer, noting the mess he'd made of the chair's upholstery. Walking toward him with as much grace as she could muster given her current state, she dropped her small armload at his feet, turning to slide onto his broad, firm thigh. The look of utter bewilderment he gave her was endearing.

She could see Harkness and the other men sending disbelieving stares in their direction as well, but she ignored them entirely.

Leaning against his massive chest, she noted with interest that the beer he was holding was practically untouched, still full nearly to the rim. If she recalled, he hadn't ordered one in some time.

"You've let your beer get warm," she said teasingly.

It took him a moment to find his voice. "Uh… yeah."

"I can help you with that," she offered, leaning forward and pressing her tongue against the base of the mug. Dragging it slowly to the top, she watched as a thin layer of frost coated the glass.

If it were at all possible, the muscular thigh she was seated upon clenched further, and she heard the tear of fabric as his nails plunged deeper into the arm of the chair.

Smiling, she shifted further up his leg, leaning closer to his face to whisper, "You seem a little tense. Just… _chill_."

The cool puff of air she blew against his neck sent a visible shiver through him, and she thrilled at the thought that she could make such a powerful being tremble. She didn't know if it was simply because she was drunk, but right now the only thing she could think of was finding out if his _unseen_ anatomy was synonymous with the rest of him.

Clenching his mug a little too hard, Nanaue started when the glass in his hand shattered. The slight woman in his lap twisted around to observe the mess he'd made, laughing a little when he looked at her sheepishly.

"Oops."

"Y'know, I think I'm ready to call it a night," Louise purred, sliding off his leg to pick up her things. Turning to the door, she slid a finger along the top of his gigantic hand. "Coming?"

"Blimey," George uttered in shock, wondering if this was actually happening, or if he was simply drunk to the point of hallucinating. Though he hadn't had any absinthe that night…

When Frost began heading for the door and the monstrous King Shark didn't immediately follow, he called out, "Better hurry along there, mate, before the tequila wears off, and that ship sails."

Nanaue tore his eyes from the curvaceous form of his obsession, glowering hatefully at Harkness. He was about to go rip the man's arms from their sockets when Louise called out to him.

"Ignore him. He's just jealous that he's not getting any tonight," she told him, grinning when he stood and followed her instantly.

The odd pair left the bar, and George thought to himself that he would likely never see Killer Frost ever again. If that monster didn't eat her, he'd more than likely split her in half like a butcher cleaving a carcass to pieces. Bloody shame, really; she did have one fine rack.

* * *

When Louise woke in the morning she instantly regretted the tequila. Her head was swimming, her stomach felt a mess, and… this wasn't her room. She blinked blearily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she looked around. Nope, definitely not her room. Those _were_ her clothes all over the floor, though, along with some very, _very_ large ones.

The mattress tipped a little to her right, and she sat up when a deep groan broke the silence. A throbbing soreness speared up her middle at the motion, and she briefly wondered if she had – at some point last night – been run over by a truck. A quick peek at the bed's other occupant answered that question for her.

"Holy shit."

King Shark's massive frame took up most of the bed – which was rather enormous also, now that she was paying attention. Likely a specialty room Penguin reserved for his more _substantial_ guests. The blankets were mostly on the floor, only the sheet remaining, twisting loosely over his hips.

Unable to help her curiosity, she lifted the coverlet a little to peek underneath, eyes widening at what she found. 'No wonder I'm sore.'

Shaking her head, she put her face in her hands, trying to piece together the events of last night. She remembered Harley dragging her down to the bar, and having a few… a _few too many_ beers. Harkness had been there, and so had Nanaue. Then… strip poker. After that… it got a little fuzzy.

She did remember him shattering his mug… and his strong arms lifting her against his chest as they left the bar. She vaguely recalled him watching her undress, and his comical urgency to do the same afterward. He'd even broken a lamp in his haste. Yup… it was still there, in the corner, broken…

Images of herself astride his massive form flitted behind her eyes, her hands mapping the vast expanse of his musculature. And then… the single, most _mind-blowing_ orgasm she'd ever experienced.

Now, being an attractive woman who wasn't ashamed to use her looks to her advantage, Louise was familiar with sex. Yet, never in her life had she felt so utterly overwhelmed by a sensation. She remembered feeling so full that the pleasure bordered on pain, every single nerve ending inside of her on fire. She had actually _screamed_ when it hit, her climax coming so suddenly and brutally that it had startled the sound right out of her.

She must have passed out after that, no other memories filtering through.

The beast of a man groaned again, turning toward her as his eyes slid open. He jolted upright at seeing her, claw-tipped fingers brushing ever-so-carefully along her arm as he asked, "How are you feeling? I didn't… hurt you?"

She smiled at his concerned tone. "I'm still a bit sore, and my head feels like it's going to split open, but other than that I'm alright. What about you? Is your hangover as killer as mine?"

"I don't get sick," he informed her plainly.

Pale brow arching, she huffed, "Well, that must be nice."

Stretching slowly, Louise turned and threw her legs from the mattress, letting the sheet slip from her body as she rose. Being sure to take baby steps, she made her way to the restroom, grimacing when she flicked on the light. Splashing her face with cold water, she had a quick drink and looked over her reflection. Her hips and thighs were somewhat bruised, and littered with thin red lines. She could only assume they were from his claws.

Rubbing her face in the palm of her hand, she attempted to dispel the last of her sleepiness, wondering if any of the others were up yet. They would likely need to do some planning before they headed out that night.

Snapping off the light as she exited the restroom, Frost was about to make for her scattered clothing when she met eyes with Nanaue. He was looking at her quite intently, and it seemed that her nudity still had a rather _strong_ effect on him. Her gaze dropped to the prominent bulge in his lap, the thin coverlet doing nothing to hide his obvious desire.

Memories of her mind-shattering climax the night before gave her pause, and for a moment she stood and contemplated the importance of getting dressed right that minute. She didn't _really_ have anywhere to be at the moment. Their self-appointed leader would more than likely round them up once it was time to start making plans.

"Guess there's no rush," she speculated aloud, sauntering back to bed. She was pretty certain that she'd read somewhere that sex was good for a headache.

 **Well that was fun, and I do hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**


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